The Guards
by Henwog53
Summary: They think they've won, and that they can return to normalcy, but they're wrong. They will discover areas of magic they never dreamed of. And now they must save the world... All, Over Again. Warning: the first chapter sucks! skip it if you must!
1. Euphoria

**Euphoria**

Harry scrapped the idea of getting a sandwich, and decided that if Kreacher was going to bring him anything, it wouldn't be one of those. It would be some sort of alcohol, possibly a fire whiskey. He knew that he should be feeling sad for all of the dead, but instead he was happy for all of those who were still alive and kicking, he was so happy, that he felt a constant swooping sensation in his stomach, the way he used to with Cho or Ginny.

All of the portraits, Hermione, Ron and himself had tears of happiness in their eyes, and Harry was suddenly bursting with energy, he turned and ran back through the corridors, he made it back into the great hall, all of the dead and injured had been placed in the hospital wing. People were screaming and shouting and jumping around. Colin Creevey had somehow unearthed a muggle CD player, and was trying to get it to work, to no avail.

Hermione shook her head, and went over and cast several shield charms on it. Then Colin popped in a CD, and said: "Sonorus."

Suddenly music was blasting out of the small player, although there was still a lot of magical interference, and it kept fading out and buzzing. The song increased Harry's feeling of euphoria, that swooping feeling in his stomach was almost too much to bear.

_Boston, More Than A Feeling_

"I Love This Song!" Hermione screamed. Her own jubilance off the charts. And she began to shout along with the deafening music.

thought Harry his mind wandering, until he saw Ginny. She ran over to congratulate him, and gave him a crushing hug, screaming: "YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!" over and over again. He just laughed, and winced as she squeezed his damaged torso.

The strange thing was; that he hadn't actually thought about Ginny that much since he saw her, just before he walked into the forest. While he stood there in the clearing, waiting to die, he had thought of only one person. And she had honey brown curls, and beautiful hazel eyes. 'Damnit! Don't think about Hermione like that! She's one of your best friends. You're supposed to be dating Ginny!' And another voice in his head replied. 'No you're not. You broke up with her, and you haven't thought about her like that for ages!' This was true. Unfortunately, during the last six months he had never seen her once, and he had somehow lost his need for her, the same way a drug addict goes cold turkey. He had even had withdrawal symptoms, those long nights lying there watching the map, staring at her dot. In the end he had stopped doing it because he loved her, he did it just to have a connection to the rest of the world, just to feel a little bit involved.

When she hugged him there was none of that old feeling in his gut, or maybe it was just that there was already so much of it there. They pulled away, and he just surveyed the hundreds of people, feeling that amazing feeling. The feeling that it was all over. It was just as though each and every one of them had overdosed on Euphoria potion, that was the only word he could think of to describe it, Euphoria.

It was all over.

Hermione turned around, slowly, and their eyes locked. She was the one who had been with him the whole way, in fact, Harry contemplated. She had been with him for seven straight years, the only times she didn't have his back, was when she was petrified by the basilisk in second year, or when she was almost killed at the ministry, or when she just couldn't be there. Like in the Tri-Wizard, or when Tom returned from the dead, or when he fought him in first year. She was always there. He just looked at her, with the fondest smile he could muster.

It Was Over.

He opened his arms, and simply said: "Thanks Hermione." A huge grin splitting his face, and tears in his eyes, she had helped him so much over the years. She leaned into the hug. 'Oh Dear.' He thought. 'I just got the feeling in my stomach, which means that I should have got it when I hugged Ginny, but I didn't, which means that I really must be over her.' The other voice spoke calmly once again 'Why do you think you responded like that to Hermione then?' 'That's easy,' replied Harry to his inner voice. 'I'm just feeling all of the nostalgia and remembering all of the good times we've had together.' He assured himself. There was no reply, no nagging counter-remark from his sub-conscious. Confident that he had won this inner battle, he moved his mind to other things.

The song got louder, and Harry felt even more of that feeling, and lifted Hermione off the floor in the hug, and began to spin her around, very fast. She screamed, and Harry just laughed. He put her down and noticed that the song had changed. Now it was a different uplifting song.

_The Dandy Worhols, Bohemian Like You_

It. Was. Over.

He wandered amongst the crowd, laughing, shaking hands, hugging friends and thanking people for the lovely flowers. He noticed Madame Pomfrey, and she came over to him tutt-ing loudly. "I see that as usual you have taken no regard whatsoever for your own health, and are parading around the place with four broken ribs, two- no three shattered vertebrae, ruined liver and kidneys, cracked skull, broken jaw, _severely_ ruptured organs, and your heart is barely beating. I _would_ usually suggest you go straight to the hospital wing, but unfortunately you are Harry Potter." She was being very stern, but then she smiled fondly, and opened her arms wide.

"_My _Harry Potter, my most regular patient in all my years in this school. Come here Harry." She said, in a motherly voice worthy of Mrs. Weasley. He smiled to the point of almost laughing as he leant in for his first ever hug from the matron. "I'll have to see about getting a plaque on that bed, I think it would be nice for it to become officially yours, since you spend every other night in it anyway."

"Thanks Poppy. Means a lot."

The next encounter he had was with his old transfiguration teacher.

"Potter," she said, with tears in her eyes. "I thought we'd lost you for a few minutes there. I lost faith in Albus; I didn't think we had a chance. I knew he had some hare-brained scheme cooked up to beat You Know Who, but I thought it had failed when you… when you…" She took a moment to calm herself. "We thought you _died _Potter!"

"I wouldn't leave a fight. Never have, Never will."

"I know, you truly are a Gryffindor, in fact, you're probably the bravest student I have ever had to endure."

"Don't be hurtful, that's not funny." Complained Harry with a fake look of pain and sadness.

Before she could reply he just pulled her into a warm hug. At first she was taken aback, but with a smile she returned it.

The next run-in was with Dennis Creevey, he walked up to Harry, and just stared, slowly he said: "Wow! You were amazing you know. The way you just appeared there, and looked at him, and you just talked to him, and there was just this power, and you just smiled and… Wow. You're just Too. Fucking. Cool."

Harry just smiled, and patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry about Collin, it was my fault; I should have made sure all the younger kids got out, including you."

Dennis stared at him, his jaw dropping. "If you dare blame any of this on yourself then I'll give you another scar! Go and enjoy yourself, you deserve it."

"Thanks Dennis. Want to get a last picture for his memory or something? I promise I'll smile and everything."

"I think I'll have to get in line." He said, nodding over Harry's shoulder.

Harry slowly spun around, though he already knew who was there. When he saw her he couldn't help smiling for some odd reason.

"Hello Rita."

**And On That Bombshell I'm Afraid It's Time To End.**

**I wrote this story a while back and was submitting it on another site but the validators were so unreliable and they hated me so much that my chapters would be banned for having flashbacks of previous chapters in them and so on. So i decided to put it up on here instead. Updates will be on Thursdays most weeks, although i'm pretty bad at getting deadlines right, so it'll probably end up being friday most of the time. Anyway, Leave a review and tell me whether or not you want the rest of my amazing story up, or you want to tear this piece of s**t down and burn it. **


	2. Objects In The Rear View Mirror

**New Friends, Old Enemies. Which Is Which?**

"Why hello Harry!" she said exuberantly, holding out her hand to him. Normally Harry wouldn't have accepted it but he had heard rumours, whisperings about Rita in the last few hours, and so he shook it.

"I've heard things about you lately Rita. Calling off the whole Dumbledore biography and all that, although I really wonder why?"

"Well, little Miss Prissy." Said Rita, with something close to nostalgia in her voice. "Probably wouldn't like it, besides, I didn't like it anyway, of course Dumbledore's got secrets, but so has everyone else, and his are hardly extraordinary. The things that he did which he didn't keep secret, now they're extraordinary. Almost unbelievable in fact, but there are still some pieces which are missing, and I'm sure that the only person who would be able to give them is _you_. Actually, people would be much more interested in _your_ biography come to think of it. But you wouldn't want that would you? Never did like the fame, I mean you're a reporter's dream, even more so than Albus. But at the same time you're a bloody nightmare." She stated, exasperatedly. "If you'd just give me one interview I'd leave you alone, but no. Ever since your fourth year, the tournament. You never let me."

"I wonder why." Said Harry, rolling his eyes. "Okay Rita, I'll give you that single interview, me and my friends will go upstairs and talk to you, for as long as you want, then will you promise to leave me alone?"

"Of course I will. But first I want a picture of you and your friends. Go and get them and then we'll take a picture, then we'll have that nice long interview."

"If you insist Rita." Replied Harry, resignedly. And he went off into the crowd with Hermione in search of their friends.

They returned minutes later, accompanied by Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna. The photographer who always accompanied Rita (Bozo, Harry thought his name was.) got behind his camera, which he had magically set up. And began directing them into positions. Eventually he decided that they all stand in a row, leaning nonchalantly on each other, elbows on other's shoulders or arms folded, and legs crossed. There was a flash, a _fwumph _and a lot of smoke, and then Rita clapped her hands together and said:

"Now then, let's get you three upstairs to your common room, and ask some questions." They looked at her suspiciously, nervously glancing at each other. "I'll try my best not to make this one horrible, I promise." They were still sceptical. "I won't even use a quick quotes quill!" they seemed to decide that this was confirmation enough of her renouncement of her old Rita-ish ways, and proceeded to the common room. But before they left the great hall, they ran into someone else.

"Well, Potty, Weasel, Granger." Said Draco Malfoy, scratching the back of his neck nervously. His usual drawl forgotten, his voice calm and quiet now, he almost sounded sorry. "I… well… this is hard… um… I suppose I'll just have to say…" He broke off.

"Well out with it." Said Ron.

"I'm sorry to you guys for being horrible and thanks for saving everyone, and stuff like that." He said it with such heart-warming, heart-felt sincerity that Harry almost forgave him right there. But he wasn't going to give in that easily.

"I'm surprised Draco, but it's gonna take a while to properly forgive you, I mean, we hated each other for years, and now…" he sighed resignedly for the second time in ten minutes. "It's just gonna take a while, but in the end we might actually make good friends." Harry attempted to leave. But was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looked at it, then his gaze moved slowly up the arm, and into the sorrowful face of Lucius Malfoy.

"Harry-." Harry almost had a heart attack right then. Not only had he been addressed by Lucius Malfoy, but he had used his first name, and it was not scowling, or spiteful or angry. But in the same tone as Draco, almost sorry. "I know you'll probably never forgive me, or my wife for the things we did to you, your family, friends, everyone basically. But I hope you'll forgive Draco, he's not a truly evil boy, he doesn't even really believe in all the pure blood stuff, that much, and he certainly didn't want to be a death eater. It's just that he was forced into it by us, and our beliefs, and prejudices. Don't begrudge him for our mistakes. Please." Harry, completely dumbfounded, and absolutely astonished, just nodded, and accepted the offered hand from Lucius. Lucius gave Harry a nod of respect, and allowed Harry to continue walking out of the hall, and up the marble staircase, with Rita, Ron and Hermione.

********** Gryffindor Common Room ************

They all sat on the amazingly comfortable, warm, familiar overstuffed armchairs in the common room. So welcome after the almost six hour battle they had been involved in.

Rita took out, for probably the first time since she finished school, a normal quill, and a piece of parchment.

"So." She said with a grin. "Where to begin?"

_For many years, the wizarding world has been informed about the life of Harry Potter and his friends. They have been told many things, about their grades, their accomplishments, their love lives and the many instances when they were pitted against You Know Who. But now, for the first time ever. I, Rita Skeeter, sat all three of them down, and they recounted their lives to me. I was going to put it in this article, but I have decided to produce a series of books about their story. Which they have told me they may not wish to be published, but I might be able to convince them. *Devilish Wink* Never fear however, wonderful readers, for I have an extract for you. It follows thus:_

_The thing about Voldemort is, he was a powerful wizard, but there have been others just as strong as him. He was evil, but there were others almost as evil – He was a bleedin' nutter! – Yeah, thanks Ron. Anyway, he wasn't extremely special, the only thing which set him apart, was that he was a complete idiot, he played with magic which had never been touched before in the history of the world. Have you ever heard of a Horcrux? Well it's when you take a piece of your soul, and put it in an object. And because that piece of your soul is bound to the earth, you can't die, because all of you can't pass on. Anyway, the only way to split your soul, is to kill someone. The most evil wizards of all time had only ever created one Horcrux. Voldemort on the other hand, created eight, although one of them wasn't intentional. This is the reason he was the most evil wizard of all time, he had no fear of toying with things which are so fragile in the first place. That's the reason he looked so strange, he had mutilated his soul so much that he was no longer human, in fact it was so unstable that when he committed two murders within five minutes of each other, a piece of his soul was involuntarily torn from him. That is the extent of the incredible evil he was capable of, and that is why he was the darkest wizard of all time._

_This is just one paragraph of the seven books which I plan to create using the information which I gained from the three teenagers. There are so many incredible twists to their amazing story that I was, for the first time in forty-three years, completely speechless. And at one point I was so shocked that I accidentally snapped my quill in my fingers. It's that good._

"Now Harry. What do you think of it?" asked Rita in a slow, strained voice, it sounded as if asking his consent was actually causing her physical pain.

"I like it quite a bit, but I'm not sure about telling the whole world that I lived for sixteen years with a piece of Voldemort inside me, and that I came back from the dead. There'll be uproar."

"But Harry." Said Rita with a mischievous grin. "That's what you like isn't it, a bit of controversy, making trouble for the government, that sort of thing."

"Yeah, but it depends who's minister, and right now it's Kingsley, so I feel like being a good boy for a while."

"If you insist. It'll take a while to get these finished anyway."

"When'll they be ready?"

"First copy should be complete by Christmas, but they won't be on sale until August maybe."

"That's just fine Rita, I'll be seeing you." And he led her to the portrait hole, and let out a sigh pf relief as it closed behind her. "When she said long, I didn't think she meant seven hours!" he said, checking his watch. "We've missed almost a days worth of celebrating."

"Tell me about it." Said Ron. "We'll just have to make up for it tomorrow."

They did make up for the lack of partying, over the next few days the whole school was rumbling to the sound of loud (good) music, of course very little pop was allowed, unless it was exceptionally good, and any spice girl fans were threatened with swift execution should they reveal themselves. There were no squabbles, arguments or fights of any sort, except when a Hufflepuff fourth year (muggleborn) decided that a little rap would be nice. (They got him down from the top of the whomping willow eventually.)

However, the high that everyone had been feeling for the last few days was wearing off, and everyone was beginning to have to face the true horror of what had happened. The people who were gone, and the effect on the people who weren't.

These effects were nowhere more profound than in Gryffindor Tower.

'Why doesn't sitting here next to Ginny feel _right?_ It doesn't comfort me, I don't get that warm feeling I used to, I don't have the overwhelming urge to just snog her senseless the way I did when we were dating. I mean, there just doesn't seem to be a spark between us the way there used to be. I think that I might really have lost my addiction to her while we were on that bloody horcrux hunt!'

Meanwhile…

'What the hell is wrong with me?' thought Ginny. 'It's like I don't need Harry anymore, I feel like he's just there, like he's not important! I mean, how much of a Bitch am I? if I don't even care if my boyfriend is right there? Even if technically we have broken up.'

On the other couch…

'Hermione doesn't seem overjoyed that we're together, maybe it's just the shock of this all being over, you know, the death of Voldemort and all that, it's enough to occupy anyone's mind for a few days, but I'm not holding out to badly, and Harry and Ginny seem O.K. as well. So I wonder what's wrong with her? What's she thinking about, I wish I knew!'

Hermione however wasn't asking such vague questions. 'What was I thinking? Why did I kiss him, after what happened down in the chamber, I thought he was going to go spare! He seemed to think that my kiss was some sort of apology, some sort of… oh, I don't know! Some sort of plea for forgiveness and for me to go out with him. It wasn't, even now I don't know why I did it, I know that I thought I was about to die, and Harry was seeing Ginny, so I couldn't kiss _him_. All I needed was a little push in that situation, and that house-elf comment made me respect him just a little bit more, and suddenly: BANG! I'd kissed him and he thought it was a done deal. Oh! I'm in such a mess! I need to know how to let him down gently, I don't want to hurt him, hopefully I can find a way, but I doubt it's possible, maybe Harry could tell me how to do it, he knows Ron better than I do. I don't know who I love, but I know it isn't Ron. God, this is going to break his heart, if he was Harry then he might understand!'

********** Hogwarts Entrance Hall **********

_Meatloaf, Objects In The Rear View Mirror_

Mrs. Andromeda Tonks, (known to her friends and those who were a bit on the downside literacy-wise, as Ann) was waiting to meet Harry as he got to the bottom of the marble staircase, Teddy Lupin sat in her arms, he wasn't gurgling happily, as he had been on the pictures of him Harry had seen, but seemed to sense that the mood around the castle was extremely grim, and was acting accordingly.

Harry reached them both, trying to force his expression away from the tears which were trying to fight their way through.

Unfortunately, Ann was not as strong emotionally as he was, and was already crying. They exchanged a few words of greeting, and consolation, before Ann insisted that Harry, as Godfather, should hold Teddy for a while. He complied, knowing that in her teary state, she was not in the mood to argue. He and the rest of the school, the teachers, and hundreds of members of wizarding Britain, (who had been in the Great Hall) filed out into the grounds, and sat of the seats which were there.

He looked around at the assembled group, sitting on chairs set in rows, before fifty holes in the ground, each of them six feet deep. Tears came to his eyes, he looked down at his Godson, and smiled weakly, the baby gurgled in his strong arms. Kingsley was making a speech at the front, reading out a list of names. "Nymphadora Tonks, Auror, Friend, Mother and Wife. Remus Lupin, Fighter, Friend, Father and Husband. Frederick Weasley, Brother, Son, Fighter and Friend."

The list went on and on, until Kingsley stepped down, and another man got up, he didn't look sad at all. He looked like a man who was trying to get his job done so he could get home and eat his dinner.

"These noble people were courageous and true. And they did the job they had to do-"

"How _Dare_ You!" shouted Harry, standing up. There were gasps from the weeping crowd. Harry strode up to the podium, and began speaking to the man angrily. "They did the job they _didn't_ have to do, and they died doing it!!! You see this baby in my arms?" Shouted Harry at the man, who took a step back in fear. "The parents of this child died for me, not because of any obligation, not because they wanted to, or because the world needed them, they wouldn't have really cared. They did it for two things! They did it for me! And they did it for their son! They didn't want to die! They didn't need to! But because I asked them to, they stood their ground in the face of impossible odds, and lost their lives, inadvertently saving yours! They were great fighters, members of the order of the phoenix. You don't even care! You just come up here in your fancy robes, making a learned-by-heart speech, filling us up with empty words. You look like you just want to get it over with and go home! Well just think about this: Without the people who you are speaking about, you'd have no home, you'd have nowhere to run! Abso_lutely_ nowhere to hide, and you'd just have to sit and wait, until eventually they found you, and then, you'd be dead." Harry said darkly into his ear. The man was getting very emotional now. The fury pulsing through Harry was almost tangible, as a sudden wind whipped around him. Tears poured freely down his face.

"You see that grave!?" he shouted. "That grave belongs to a thirteen year old boy! Who died when a werewolf tore out his throat, he bled to death, slowly, screaming for his mother. If you don't have any idea what it's like to see something like that, then you don't deserve to speak about it, he was ten times the man you are, or will ever be! So just go home, and let the people who were there grieve without your stupid pompous ceremony! Dennis Creevey was a young boy when he was killed, and you talk about it with no damn _feeling_!!!" Harry was openly weeping now, almost hysterically.

"They did the job they _didn't_ have to do." He collapsed to his knees, the baby in his arms, weeping softly. Realisation washing over him like a wave of flame, drowning his soul. "They did the job they _didn't_ have to do." Hecollapsed, waves of misery pouring from him, kneeling over the grave of Dennis Creevey. He punched the ground, sending up a few lumps of mud into the air. Sobbing the word over and over again. "_Didn't, didn't, didn't, didn't, didn't, didn't, DIDN'T!!!"_

The people watching seemed to think that the ceremony was over, and began to file out of their seats, heading either back into the castle or away towards Hogsmeade. Only one person came to console Harry.

Hands rested on his shoulders, kind words caressed his ears, a wonderful, feminine voice, making him feel warm despite the cold feeling in his heart. He really loved that voice, a soprano which calmed him perfectly.

His thoughts straightened out a little, he was now considering what exactly the reason was that so many people had stood their ground, waiting for death to take them. They couldn't have all done it for him, surely, only a handful of people liked him that much, and all of those people had survived. There must have been a reason, because all of them needn't have been there, maybe a few order members and a handful of aurors would have accomplished the same task. But instead, hundreds of students, teachers, parents and randomly assorted members of the magical community insisted on fighting beside him, while they could have just escaped and left him to fight Voldemort alone.

What would he have done? If it had been him, getting ordered to leave, and let someone else who he didn't really know that well march against Voldemort's army. Well, he'd have fought of course, there were no two ways about it, he couldn't let someone just face all of that, they needed help, and that help was him.

'So that's how they all felt?' he mused, with a lop-sided half-smile. 'they didn't want to let someone they knew go up against all of that without help, they wanted to offer as much assistance as they could, to make my job easier, even though they didn't have to do it.' He looked up at the lines of graves. New tears in his eyes.

"You're all _fucking _IDIOTS!!!" He screamed, incandescent with rage. "Why!?" he screamed again. Hermione stopped trying to console him and took a step back. "Why the _FUCK _did you all stay?! You could have escaped!!! I could have done it without your help!!!" He walked straight over to Dumbledore's tomb. "This is YOUR fault!!!" he yelled. "If you hadn't stopped him all those years ago!!! If you had told me what to do! I could have beaten him without all of my friends having to DIE!!!" his clothes billowed in a sudden wind which whistled around him. "If You Weren't Already Dead!!! I _Swear_ I'd Kill You!!!" He let out a sob at the word 'swear' and then threw a punch as hard as he could at the grave.

An intense golden magic surrounded his arm, forming a cone shape with the point facing the tomb. Hermione watched as the magic shot away from Harry's arm, flew the five feet to the wards surrounding the marble memorial and reflected back. The blast wave blew Harry off his feet and tore up the turf in a conical shape ending around fifteen feet from the tomb.

"Harry!" screamed Hermione.

Harry sat up in the smoking crater, his clothes a little singed but otherwise only his pride was damaged. Hermione rushed to his side, already waving her wand in a complicated pattern, ready to close up any wounds or something along those lines, Harry wasn't very good at healing spells.

"Are you okay!?" she panted, her breathing quick even though she had only run a few yards. "What happened? How did you do that? Are you alright? Where does it hurt?" She stopped for a breath.

Harry looked up and replied: "Yes, Dunno, Dunno, Yes, Nowhere."

Hermione gave him a small smile. Which cheered him up immeasurably. It was as though all of his fear, anger, and sadness siphoned off into her all the time, as though she was some sort of emotional earth-wire.

Once she was certain that he really wasn't hurt anywhere, she looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed his little piece of magic. She noticed two things, first that there was no one around, and secondly that the tomb was blackened in a few places.

"Hey, Harry?" She asked. "Have you put the Elder Wand back yet?"

He looked up at her quizzically, "No, why?" she looked up at him with the serious face she got whenever the cogs in her brain slotted into place, and she made a realisation.

"Because if you did then you'd have realised that the wards are specifically designed to let your magic through." She said.

"Obviously, how else d'you think he expected me to get in there?" he asked as though she was being deliberately obtuse.

"But you wouldn't need to do magic once you were in there would you? Why let you do spells in there?" she mused to herself.

"Look." Harry said bluntly. "You're reading too much into this tiny little thing. If you want me to put the wand back then I will. And I'll fix the wards so they don't randomly let magic through." He said. He really wasn't in the mood for investigation and problem solving.

"But it's not random, look." She said. She cast a spell on the tomb, and nothing happened. It just reflected away. "I want to have a look in there." She said.

He gave in, there was no point arguing. It would be easier to just let her go in. and prove her wrong that way.

**Sorry for the late update, but at the last minute I decided to change, (and drastically improve) this chapter, by merging it with what was originally chapter three. Then I wrote an extra one and a half thousand words on the end. So I hope you can understand why it's two days late. **

**Leave a review and please give me your opinion by answering the poll on my profile page. **

**Sayonara!**


	3. Frog Soup

Guards! Guards!

**Frog Soup.**

**  
**  
*********** The Hogwarts Express, Yorkshire Dales ***********  
March 3, 2007  
11:43 AM

No one spoke as they sat on the train, they just gazed out of the windows, or read, or simply thought. The students had been told to go home for a few weeks after the funerals, but as it was only March, they would need to return to school afterwards, no one really knew what for though, they weren't taking lessons, maybe it was just to keep that feeling of unity, of security, it felt better to mourn and celebrate with others than to do it alone, Harry had enough experience of that. Harry kept glancing at everyone, thinking about them, wondering what they were all going to do now that it was all over, maybe they would get jobs, even though once they had received their rewards between them they would probably have enough money to buy Latvia. One thing he did know was that he no longer wanted to be an Auror, he wanted to sit back and relax, have children, watch some films, drive a car, go on holiday. All the things he had missed out on for seventeen years. During his musings he glanced at Hermione at the most interesting of times, unconsciously, when he thought of a family, his eyes snapped to her, and back again in a millisecond, not even long enough for his conscious mind to notice. Luna did, even though she didn't know what he was thinking, she realised that he was looking at Hermione more than anyone else, and she at him, she decided to say something.

"Harry?" She asked softly, as to not disturb the silence too much.

"Hmm?" He replied, removing his gaze from the window to acknowledge her.

"Can you come outside for a moment, there's something I want to ask you?"

"Can't you ask it here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No, it's a little bit private,"

"Sure then." He replied, confused as to what she wanted. They both left the carriage and closed the door quietly, Harry turned to Luna.

"Harry." She began in her usual blunt, down to earth manner. "This is getting out of hand."

"What is!?" He asked, amused once again at Luna's, uh… individuality. He was nevertheless quite curious as to what exactly she assumed he'd done. Whatever he had expected, he wasn't anticipating the answer he got.

"You and Hermione."

He did a double-take "Excuse me?" He asked slowly, "We haven't done anything!"

"Exactly!"

"Wait- What!?"

"You and Hermione are on the wrong paths! You should be together! Everything's gone wrong!"

"What're you talking about!? We are together, she's right in there! We aren't too far apa-" he suddenly stopped himself. "Oh. You mean, erm, in… you know, _that _way. Don't you." He said slowly, nervously.

"Yes I do." She said matter-of-factly.

"You know what?" said Harry, as though choosing his words carefully. "If you think that, then I'll have to disagree fervently," he was purposely trying to choose the most high-brow vocabulary he could think of to make his opinion sound more solid. "It is my opinion, that anyone who believes that I belong with anyone except Ginny, in absolutely mental."

"Excuse me?" she asked. Obviously not expecting this, and clearly more than a little offended.

"Listen to what you're saying!" he said, making it plain that he wasn't actually insulting her in any way, merely pointing out the fact that her theory was incorrect in the extreme. "You're trying to tell me that Hermione Jean Granger, smartest student that's been to Hogwarts… pretty much _ever_, funny, intelligent, loyal, brave, a skilled fighter, comes from a fairly wealthy background, and she's… well, _really _beautiful. O.k? remember all that. You're trying to tell me that she is perfect for a scruffy, messy-haired, stupid, magically inept orphan who spent almost all of his childhood hiding in a cupboard and only got into Gryffindor by asking!?" he finished, drawing breath.

Luna smiled. "Yes." She said. "I am. Except you left out a few details. The fact that you were the _second _highest predicted grades in your N.E. in your year, after Hermione of course. And that's saying something, because apparently your year was on of the best that's ever gone through Hogwarts. Also your magical skills are really good, even if you weren't the best at Transfiguration and Charms, you were top, and I mean absolute _top _at defence against the dark arts. And I really mean that. I was taught Defence by Professor Lupin, Barty Crouch Jr, Professor Snape, and Amycus Carrow. And you could teach better than any of them, and I think you could hold your own in a fight with all except Snape. Also the fact that you are," She blushed lightly "rather attractive, and I happen to know that Hermione thinks your bad hair and scruffiness makes you look cooler, and they're some of her favourite qualities about you, aside from you being the best seeker ever and the bravest person she's ever met and a whole long list of other things she rambles on about whenever you're mentioned."

Harry sighed. "Fine." He said in a defeated tone, although he wasn't done yet. "Let's just imagine for a second that me and Hermione both love each other, and are perfect together. What about Ron and Ginny?" He smiled, confident that she would have no response to this. He and Ginny were in love, and he thought that Hermione and Ron were as well. Even if she convinced him and Hermione to get together, then it would be cruel and heartless to Ron and Ginny, both of whom had had crushes on them for years.

"Look Harry, If you put a frog in hot water, it'll just jump straight out again. But if you put a frog in cold water, and heat it up _gradually_, it'll just sit there and slowly boil to death."

"What's that supposed to mean Luna, I've had enough of riddles and people speaking in circles to last a lifetime, and I don't need you to give me your recipe for frog soup!"

Luna smiled triumphantly. "It's my recipe for disaster. If you and Hermione were to meet for the first time here, now, today, you'd realise you were in hot water and do something about it."

"I'm not in hot water! The water's cold, freezing, it isn't even water, it's ice." That sounded like a denial which was a little too desperate to him, so he decided on damage control. "Okay maybe the water's a little warm, room temperature at most." Finally, all of Luna's arguments together brought down a crashing wave of reason which blew down his barrier of resolve with ease. "Aah, who am I kidding!? It's a freaking sauna, but what can I do about Ron and Ginny!?"

"Think about it Harry, Ginny and Ron have crushes, they aren't in love-"

"Neither am I!" Harry interjected.

"But you will be, just think about it, this is the rest of your life, Ron and Ginny may be sad for a few weeks, months at most. It's worth it Harry. And it stands to reason, that if you and Hermione are with the wrong people, then they are as well. They may not realise it, but the break-ups will help everyone in the end." She turned to leave, just as she reached for the door to the compartment Harry caught her arm.

"How d'you know all this?"

Her eyes closed, and when they fluttered open again, they were a brilliant golden colour, and looked deep, really deep. The entire corridor lit up with their light. Harry felt as though he was gazing into eternity, as though if he were to just reach forward, and peer a little deeper, he would find answers, answers to questions he didn't even know he wanted to ask. As she closed them again, and they reverted to their normal state, he was brought down from his trance. "I saw it."

******************* The Burrow *****************  
31 May, 2007  
04:32 PM

Harry had contemplated his discussion/argument with Luna, he was so engrossed in his thoughts, that he got all the way to the burrow on autopilot. But in the time it took he considered lots of things. Hermione was pretty, nay, beautiful was the term of choice. She was very, very, very intelligent, she was perfectly curvy, not overly so, but just right. These were things he had known for a long time, but then he began thinking about her personality. The words he came up with to describe her were as follows: funny, witty, smart, caring, inquisitive, a fantastic listener, loyal, tender. and above all else was that loving kindness which Harry had needed so much over the years.

His thoughts were interrupted by a jovial voice as he stepped off the triple decker Knight Bus.

"Harry! So good to see you, wondering when you'd stop by, I decided to skip the train and prepare your gift!"

"What gift?" Harry replied, confused.

"The one I have waiting in the woods as a thank-you present for saving the world and rescuing us all from the clutches of an evil and dictatorial tyranny, so nothing too important, so if you've got other plans I'll be sure to wait." He said in a sarcastic tone.

"Sorry," said Harry, exaggeratedly slapping himself on the forehead, "I should have known!"

"Yes you should. Tsk, tsk." George waved a finger at him disapprovingly. "It's impolite not to realise when someone's doing something nice for you." He became slightly more serious. "All this aside, I believe you should see it alone first."

'What is it with people wanting to speak to me alone today, if this is about Hermione then I'm gonna go spare.' He thought agitatedly. "Okay then. Fine, I'll catch up with you once I've got unpacked at the burrow." He said.

Once they had arrived and he had unpacked he followed George to the woods behind the house, and then into a clearing about one hundred yards in, all the while talking. "You see Harry, I knew people were going to get you presents, mostly it would be orders of Merlin, or flowers, or chocolates or money. But I wanted to get you something you could _use_. So…" He pulled out a key ring with a small cuboid on it. Harry took it from George and had a closer look.

There was a symbol on the cuboid, it was a pair of wings, and written across them, were the words Aston Martin.

Harry looked up with a smirk. "You're kidding right? Is this a joke?"

"Nope." Said George, a huge grin splitting his face. "Just press the emblem in."

"You're sure it's not going to turn into a giant porcupine and attack me?" he asked.

"Promise." George replied.

"Or a chicken?" he was going to cover all the bases.

"Just press it!" he said urgently, obviously very exited at this.

Harry pressed in the Aston Martin Logo with his thumb, and suddenly, about ten feet to his left, a beautiful car materialised. "I… It's, uh… invisible?" he asked slowly, awestruck.

"Yeah, it's got all kinds of fun extras, but I'll let you find those for yourself." He smiled.

Harry wasn't really sure he _wanted _to find out what kind of stuff George would have put in his car. Then a lead weight sank his enthusiasm like a concrete ship with a hole the size of the moon in it.

"Erm, George." He asked slowly. "Just one problem, I don't have a driving license." He sounded quite dejected. 'Come to think about it, it would have stupid to drive a car like that without being taught how properly anyway.'

"That is part two of my gift Harry. Having a father who is the head of the muggle artefacts office at the ministry has its upsides. Such as being able to enchant a car, or getting hold of a muggle driver's licence as a present for a friend who I owe a lot to." He said, as though it was a pretty common problem. "You know, those sorts of things."

Harry laughed. "I still don't know how to drive properly. In theory I can, but I've never actually tried. I know what all the pedals do and stuff though."

George smiled. "Don't worry, it'll come to you. If my moronic brother could figure out how to drive at twelve years old, then you can at seventeen." He turned and began to walk back towards the Burrow. "One thing." He said, looking back over his shoulder as he walked. "Just don't crash into another whomping willow. Some of the modifications on that car will explode from even the slightest collision."

Harry opened the door and climbed inside. "I'll keep that in mind." He started up the engine. "Wow." He said to himself.

**A/N I know that it has been a long time, but there have been problems at home, like my parents splitting up and so on, and there is pressure on at school, so it took a while to get my head straight and for this to make back into my list of top priorities. Anyway, to make up for it, I'll try to post the next three chapters by the end of the week. **

**Remember, leave a review if you have any advice, criticisms, praise (yeah right), suggestions for the story or any number of other things which you might want to say. **


	4. The Cross

**The Cross **  
**A/N. Tonight: Harry drives his new car. Kingsley says a big speech, and gives a medal to someone you wouldn't expect**

*************** Somewhere In The Countryside *************  
March 3, 2007  
05:56 PM

Harry was driving around the winding B-roads of the British countryside two hours after George had left. He really liked his car, and was getting quite adept at driving it.

He wondered if there was anything good on the radio, there probably wouldn't be a good signal in the hilly area, but he was getting rather bored with only the roar of the engine to accompany him, not that it was unpleasant sound, it was just monotonous. He switched the radio on, and predictably, there was only one bar of reception.

It was then that he noticed a note on the glove box. He slowed a little so that he could lean over and read it. It simply read: from Bill.

He opened the compartment, and inside he saw a stack of CDs. He looked at the first one. "Greatest Rock Songs." He read. "Might as well give it a whirl."

He put it in, and straight away he didn't get what he was expecting. His musical knowledge being below average, he had expected men screaming into the mike, and heavy music. Instead he was treated to a highly enjoyable intro. He checked the CD box. He read the back. "Track 1." He read. "Sweet Child of Mine."

Harry sank his foot deeper into the accelerator as the first verse began, and took the next corner he came to at full throttle, He slid a little, but pulled it back with help from his quidditch reflexes. He straightened out and changed lanes to overtake an old Fiat. He waved to the man as he passed, and got back on the left side of the road. He settled down for a nice long drive before he was to go back to the Burrow, get some rest and prepare for the next day, when they would be attending their reward ceremony.

As He continued to roll around the country lanes, tapping the steering wheel in time to the beat, he looked briefly through the car's documentation. There was a booklet in there with the car's details. George had obviously left it in there after he had visited the showroom. "Colour: Silver. Tyres: Pirelli recommended. Price: £132,000 including optional refinements. Top speed:" he paused, and closed the booklet. "Tell you what, let's find out."

He made it to a section of pretty straight road, and shifted up into fourth gear.

******************* Hogwarts, Great Hall ****************  
March 4, 2007  
10:59

The Great Hall was full of people, they were milling around the tables, drinking, eating, chatting, having a good time. It was a beautiful summer's day, and the light streamed in through the windows, (and the ceiling). A ministry official stood at the Staff Table and everyone turned their attention to him.

"It is time." he said "We must now file out into the grounds, and please, no fighting over the seats."

The crowd made their way onto the sweeping lawns, where rows and rows of white seats were assembled, just as Harry had seen on two occasions before, both of them funerals. This time was different, now was the time of the giving of medals and rewards to the people who fought, and though they had already remembered the deaths of their friends and family, now it was time to remember the downfall of Voldemort. Once they were all sitting, and their attention was focused at the front of the rows of chairs, where Kinglsey Shacklebolt was standing at a podium which had been erected by magic, the Minister of Magic began to speak.

"The Victoria Cross," He said, slowly, "The first medal for heroic actions which was ever made available to every single man and woman who fought on behalf of this nation. Made solely from the bronze of Chinese cannons captured from the Russians during the Crimean War. There are seven Victoria crosses sitting in the basement of a small jewellers in London. The last of a batch made thirty years ago. Once those seven are gone there is only enough bronze remaining to make eighty more. Therefore, anyone who receives one is in a very select group. "Only four persons possessing magical abilities have ever been awarded one." He paused for a second. "None of those have been issued in an action on behalf of the magical community. Save one."

"That award was issued on the order of the Head of the Auror department of the Ministry of Magic yesterday. I once knew a man, who fought off four werewolves in order to get the Minister of Magic to safety in the first Wizarding war. He held them off for three minutes while the minister escaped through a secret passageway. He realised that some very important documentation was left on the table of the room they had been meeting at, in Gloucester. He grabbed the documents, and knew that he needed to get them away intact, in order to keep the secrecy of an important operation which would take place in a few days. As he grabbed them, he relinquished the wards he had on the room, and attempted to apparate. One of the wolves, however, bit into his leg. Apparating would mean giving away the location of the hideout he was headed to. So he severed his own leg."

"Due to his efforts, the Minister of Magic escaped alive, and the operation went ahead successfully. With the forces of Lord Voldemort taking heavy losses. He was recommended for a Victoria Cross. But it was denied. Because, in saving the documents, he saved himself. And that instance of self-preservation lost him his opportunity to be among the bravest soldiers the world has ever known."

"That's how hard it is to be awarded a Victoria Cross. The wizard who was killed by Lord Voldemort after serving as a double agent for over eighteen years, passing invaluable information over to the Order of the Phoenix the whole time. Severus Snape was a vital asset in the war against Voldemort and died in the Battle of Hogwarts. He showed great courage, and little or no respect or value for his own life in the face of duty. For this, I, Acting Minister of Magic, officially award him, The Victoria Cross. For outstanding bravery, nerve, and disregard for his own safety in order to aid the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic.

**A/N And on that Bombshell I'm afraid it's time to end. Please leave a review. I worked hard to get two chapters out this close together, but I owe you it for the large gap between chapters 2 and 3.**

**Goodnight.**


	5. The Cyclops

**The Cyclops**

** Tonight: You get confused by the way I describe Harry's dream, someone who everyone thought was dead makes an appearance, and Fiji is full of Cannibals. **  
**  
**  
******** A Weird Dream ********

Harry's vision was blurry, he was desperate. He had just run away from helping his friends, people he knew, he had left them to die so that he could accomplish this task. He was stumbling through the strange, dark tunnel. He had never been here before, but had heard the other's talking about it. It was strange to think that they had been in here at twelve years old, when it was much more dangerous. He stumbled and his face fell into a puddle. When he noticed his reflection, he was Hermione. Long brown hair, beautiful face, yeah, he was definitely Hermione. He stood, and ran again. He was side by side with Ron. The idea had been a stroke of genius frankly, using Ron's garbled attempt at Parselmouth, they had gained entry to the chamber of Secrets. He could feel the cup pulling at him, as it felt it's end near. It was trying to convince him to let it survive, offering power, more power than he could possibly imagine. But he had to be strong, his will power would not be allowed to waver, the fate of the world would rest on these actions, if only Ron's hunch was right. But he was distressed. They had left Harry, when he needed it the most, he was probably searching everywhere for them, but more likely, he was following his trail of thought through the castle, using his wonderfully insightful tendency to just, sort-of, know things. To figure things out with almost no clues or evidence, his suspicions were almost always right. 'I know he'll figure it out eventually, that's a given. I just hope he gets there in time.'

They finally came up to a large stone door with two large stone snakes carved into it. With emeralds for eyes. Once again, Ron attempted to speak in parseltongue, and the snakes moved, and the door split down the middle, and slowly slid open, the strange glowing light from inside the room shone into the almost pitch-black tunnel in which they stood, the glare for a second hurting their eyes. Once their vision had returned, however, they noticed that the room was still pretty dark, even with the torches lining the walls, they slowly proceeded towards the dark shape at the other end of the mammoth space. With colossal pillars, with hundreds of snakes carved up the side, holding the ceiling up. A ceiling so far away that it was lost in the gloom. He was afraid, even though nothing living was in the cavern except for him and Ron, he felt worried, an irrational fear, a primal sense of foreboding coming from the intensely sour magical aura of the place. The sooner they got out of here the better.

They both ran across the huge, wet, stone floor, trying to get to the other side as fast as they could. It was a lot longer than it looked from the door, but they made it without getting too out of breath, which was lucky, because having to breathe in the putrid smell of a rotting corpse was bad enough as it was, if they were taking deeper breaths, they may have passed out.

Slowly, Ron approached the huge skull of the basilisk. Much of the tough skin still in place, however, they eyes had already been punctured by something, and the pulp inside the sockets was a disgusting colour. Ron put his hand into the closed mouth, and, using all of his strength, he wrenched the decayed jaws apart.

In life, the inside of these had been warm and wet, which made the decomposition even more unpleasant. He saw, in the roof of it's mouth, the wound from the Sword of Gryffindor. It went straight up and through the frontal cortex of it's brain, there was no wonder it died so suddenly.

One by one, he began wrestling teeth out of it's mouth, using a combination of spells and brute force to loosen them before pulling. After he had gotten out an armful, he turned to Harry.

"Here Hermione, I think you should do the honours this time." And threw a fang to him. He pulled the cup from the bag on his back, and placed it on the floor before him. He raised the fang. He was shaking, it was a strange feeling, he was about to drive a stake straight through one seventh of Voldemort's soul. He needed to do it. He needed to get back to the surface and help Harry and the rest, it was imperative that this task be completed. He knew that, and he was trembling with the anticipation. He was raring to go, to destroy it, and yet. His hand lingered.

******** Number 12 Grimmauld Place ********  
March 17  
09:15 AM

Harry was woken from his mysterious dreams by a thump outside his door. Someone had probably knocked something over in the dark. Not an uncommon occurrence, as their surroundings had completely changed since they had helped Kreacher renovate the whole building.

He got up from his bed, and went out into the hallway, just in time to see Hermione's bedroom door close. He quietly approached the door, and knocked gently. There was a barely audible sob from inside, and he eased the door open. His gaze fell upon the figure of Hermione, sitting on her bed, her head in her hands.

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively, slowly approaching her. "Are you okay?" He drew nearer, she was drying her eyes, poorly, in a vain attempt to prevent him from seeing that she was crying. He sat down next to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in a warm embrace. "There's no need to cry any more, it's all over, and Fred wouldn't want you to cry because of him, he'd want you to be happy." Her sobs diminished slightly, but were still there. There was something else bothering her. "And if it's about your parents, then there isn't anything to be sad about. You haven't seen them in a while, but it's for the best. I'm sure you missed them, but you wouldn't have seen them while we were searching for Horcruxes anyway."

He was getting slightly more passionate now, as though he was justifying it to himself, trying to prove that he needn't be guilty about making Hermione stay away from her parents for almost a year. "And we can go and find them soon, and reverse your memory charm, and it'll be like nothing happened. They'll still be safe, and happy, and they'll still love you. There was no logical downside to what you did. But I'm sure you already knew that, figuring things out logically is just what you do." He finished with a short laugh, though he wasn't sure why.

She laughed too, only a few breaths, but it was something. "I feel terrible, I shouldn't have done it, I should have found some other way to protect them. Now… *sob* they don't… don… don't even know they have a daughter!" she began to cry into his shoulder again.

"It isn't your fault Hermione, there was no other way, and besides, if I hadn't dragged you and Ro-"

"No!" she said, suddenly serious. "Don't you dare imply that somehow this is all your fault Harry James Potter! You know full well that I made that decision on my own, with absolutely no input at all from you!"

"I didn't-"

She cut him off again. "I don't care what you say or think! This is my mistake! And I have every right to wallow in self pity and regret without you trying to steal all of my thunder!" she said.

If the situation wasn't so serious, he would have laughed. He wondered if she had meant that to be a joke. 'Knowing Hermione, it was.'

"Fine then." He said. "Tomorrow, we'll talk to Ron about finding your parents, okay? And we'll decide where to go from there." He slowly got up, and walked towards the door. As his hand grasped the handle, he heard her soft voice behind him.

"Goodnight Harry. And… thanks."

"Yeh." He said, stepping out of the room, and slowly closing the door behind him.

******** The Next Day ********

"I say go for it," said Ron, after Harry consulted him about finding Hermione's parents. "I don't know what I'd do if I was away from my parents for that long. I mean, I had that break-down at Christmas, didn't I, and you know how bad that was. The quicker we find her parents and bring them back, the better." He finished, with a sip of his butter beer. They were sitting on a beach, palm trees overhead, the sky and water the brightest blues Harry had ever seen. He had to admit, Fiji was truly awe-inspiring.

There were two reasons they were in Fiji. One, was that they had heard that it was one of the best tropical paradises on earth, and the other was simply because they could. They had been sunbathing and swimming all afternoon. They had port-keyed there after having breakfast in the south of France.

The best thing, surprisingly wasn't his bottomless case of beer, kept cool by a tiny cloud, dropping a never-ending stream of snowflakes over it. The best things were Ginny and Hermione's bikinis. At first, they had been extremely nervous about it, but Harry couldn't see why, both of them were stunning, a light tan told him that this wasn't the first time Ginny had worn this attire.

They were swimming at the moment, observing some of the local fish and other marine creatures, careful to approach none too closely, as many of them were poisonous, some of them to a lethal extent. There were many horror stories pertaining to islands like this one, explanations why the paradise wasn't such a paradise after all. Especially in relation to the Fiji islands, where cannibalism and the murder of children were practiced until only recently, and it is rumoured to continue even now.

This made Harry uncomfortable, but the same issue arose with people Holidaying in the U.S. where racism and the paranoia of terrorist attacks had caused many murders and much unrest, or Rome, where the religious conflicts have caused thousands of executions, these things, however, Harry tried to ignore. Because, otherwise, there was nowhere you could go, and the minority didn't always reflect the majority, so he paid the rumours and stories no mind.

_If Today Was You're Last Day, Nickelback_

Here, now, today, he was just here to enjoy himself, and he _was _enjoying himself. He was lying on a sun-lounge, with a bottomless case of alcoholic beverages, the sun was simply glorious, the water was the purest shimmering blue he had ever seen, only paralleled by the cloudless sky. He had been told that, apparently, if all of the hype about global warming actually had some grounds in fact and scientific research, which he assumed it did, that in three hundred years, Britain would have a climate like this. With palm trees on the banks of the Severn, lush ferns in the Scottish Highlands, the channel littered with those little islands with just one coconut tree on them.

Ron was tapping his fingers and nodding his head to the music they had playing on a portable CD player, which worked fine as long as there wasn't too much magic near it. "What's this song called again Harry?" he asked curiously.

"Dunno, It's on random." Replied Harry

"It's pretty good." Said Ron, but was immediately distracted from the acoustics by the return of Hermione and Ginny. They rose out of the water in slow-motion. The water running in waves off their glistening bodies, wet hair flying about as they shook their heads to remove the water from their eyes. Those bikinis were really amazing.

Both of them were mesmerised by the two girls splashing their way through the shallow water, it was one of the most incredible sights they had ever witnessed. He had seen many amazing things since the end of the battle. The survivors had made a list of vows that day. They would never allow another dark wizard to rise to power again, no matter what the cost. They would avenge their friends and family members by taking down the remaining death eaters, they would do things which had meaning with their lives. And finally, they would live to the fullest. Find love, find happiness, conquer every challenge, change every life, experience _everything_. In short, have no regrets.

They had promised that, and they had delivered. They had spent their entire time having as much fun, fulfilling as many dreams as they possibly could. They had been snowboarding, they were bad at it but it was still fun. Harry and Ron drove and flew whenever they could, as fast as they could, they had started trying to get Hermione over her fear of flying, they had given obscene amounts of money to various funds and charities throughout the world, and had spent almost as much money just having fun.

Grimmauld place had been completely renovated by them. It was now the perfect living area, with so many magical enchantments and secret passageways and extra rooms that it was one of the biggest magical hotspots in the region. And yet Hermione was trying to find a way to get electrical systems to function in there. So far all she had managed was an alarm clock, unfortunately it couldn't keep track of time properly.

Most of her additions had been fairly practical, she had made hundreds if not thousands of additions to the books she already owned, and turned one of the upstairs rooms into a huge library, then built a second tier into that room and put a bed in it. Now it was where she slept every night.

Harry and Ron, on the other hand, had there eyes set on much more ridiculous things. Magic, they realised, had potential which was rarely ever achieved. So they set to work doing ever more incredible things, the type of things which seem to exist only in children's imaginations and cartoons. But Harry and Ron could see no viable reason for the to fail, and so they tried them.

Now, every morning, they were awoken by a jumping, shouting alarm clock, which was switched off using a gigantic hammer. Then, they would use and incredibly complex mechanical system to get dressed and washed, and then slide down some firemen's poles to breakfast. They had made boots with pogo-sticks on the bottom, and built a rocket launcher in the shape of a dolphin which fired toy dogs.

Hermione laughed that all of this was insane and ridiculous, and it annoyed her slightly, and even more so when Ron painted the inside of her room onto her door. She thought the door was open and walked right into it, then a giant boxing glove knocked her over the banister and into a swimming pool. It was one of the most amazing things Harry had ever seen.

Until two days later, when they went to the most northern town in Iceland, and watched the Aurora Borealis. The word breathtaking couldn't even begin to describe it. And now, every evening, after swimming in the Caribbean or sunbathing in Tahiti, they would take a port key to Iceland, and once again, have their minds utterly blown by the shining, shimmering, slithering, sparkling, spectrum.

"Hermione?" asked Harry one night, as he saw the flickering, moving lights.

"Yeah?" she breathed. He eyes fixated on the sky.

"How the _hell_ did nature come up with that?" he asked.

"It's just particles hitting the atmosphere and bouncing off, those lights are just the flashes from the collisions." She replied slowly.

"Cool." He said, and it was. Usually, a simple explanation for something would ruin the 'magic' but somehow, it didn't. 'Science' he reflected, 'It's boring and nerdy and annoying, but every now and then, it does something which just plain _rules_.'

The rest of the time, Harry was occupied with Ginny. They had spent one _very _long night kissing in a hotel in Rome, overlooking the Tiber, with an incredible view of the Vatican across the way. Earlier that day, they had toured the inside, seeing so many incredible works of art that he couldn't even count them, let alone their worth. Ginny thought the whole thing was terribly romantic, and if he hadn't held her back, he feared that they would have gone all the way. Which was one thing he didn't want to do, he wasn't yet brave enough to face the wrath of Mrs Weasley.

They had even decided to get jobs. Being teachers sounded like a good idea, and in a year, they would be allowed to have an interview with Headmistress McGonagall, if they so wished, and they did. Ron hoped to be a flying instructor, Hermione, a transfiguration teacher, and Harry, of course, hoped to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also living pretty good lives now, considering all that they had been through, the money that they had received had really helped, and on many occasions she had all of them over for a huge dinner prepared laboriously over the course of days. It was after one such meal, that their lives took yet another drastic turn.

They were having drinks in an expensive bar in Milan, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean, talking about nothing really important, feeling sad that they hadn't been for a swim that day, but happy that it was still Morning in Hawaii, so there was lots of time left. They were also discussing plans for the next day, with Harry asking Ron whether he'd ever ridden a roller-coaster and if he wanted to try it, and Hermione telling Ginny about her holiday in the lakes of northern Italy.

They grew tired and decided to head back to Grimmauld Place for some much needed sleep. Finding a deserted alleyway, Hermione pulled out her port-key-creation licence and checked that she was cleared to use one at that time. She saw that the indicator was green, placed it back in her bag, and picked up a stone from the floor.

With a muttered: "Portus." They were in business. Arriving outside their home only seconds later and in time to watch the sunset for the second time that day, they went indoors.

Instantly, all of them froze. Fear and apprehension gripped them, adrenaline fought to remove the alcohol from their systems. They could hear someone, something, shuffling around inside the kitchen. It sounded much too big to be Kreacher, and anyone else would have switched on some lights when they entered. They slowly approached the door, wands raised. Harry held up his hand, three fingers raised. He put down one, then another, and as the final finger fell, they leapt through the aperture and, as one, cried: "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" was the reply from the form in the corner, but the shield couldn't completely hold back four stunners. And the man was hurled backwards across the room.

Cautiously, they approached him. Harry's mouth, fell open.

Sitting against the wall, clutching an aching back and gasping for breath, was Alastor Moody. He had only one eye, no wooden leg and had lost the two middle fingers on his left hand. Harry noticed why the shield hadn't worked as well. His wand was split in two pieces.

"W-w-w-w-wh-w-w-who? H-How? What?" stuttered Ron.

"This doesn't make any sense!" said Hermione loudly.

"Who are you!?" shouted Ginny.

Harry was the last to speak. His voice was soft, almost, afraid. "How," he said, slowly. "How, did you survive?"

Moody grinned unpleasantly. "Isn't there something else you want to ask me first?"

"uhm… er…" Harry was thinking. 'what would only Mody know?' "Four years ago, what was in the seventh compartment of your trunk?"

"I was." He answered, gruffly.

Harry smirked. "Seriously though, how are you here?"

"That's a long story, which I'm sure you're all eager to hear, but first, I have two questions." His expression had gotten a little more serious. "Who do I have to cruciate to get a new wand around here? And I know you had something to do with it, so tell me Potter, where's my eye?"

**A/N, and on that bombshell I'm afraid it's time to end. The next chapter should be up within the week, but I think that's what I said last chapter, four months ago. Oh well, real life kinda sucks and got in the way a little. But I promise, next time, we get introduced to the plot. **


	6. Tea, Tantrums, Time, Talk of Tall Tales

**Tea, Tantrums, Time, and Talk of Tall Tales**

**Tonight: Moody tells his story, Harry and Hermione argue with Ron and Ginny, And you get introduced to the plot. **

******** Hermione's bedroom. 12, Grimmauld Place ********

"Look." Said Ron exasperatedly, "There's _no way _he can be Moody. He just _can't_."

Hermione interjected. "Ron, he checks out, I cant detect any concealment charms on him, and he's been here for over an hour without drinking, so it can't be polyjuice potion. He can't _not _be Moody."

"But it just doesn't make sense!" moaned Ginny. "He can't have been hiding for almost a year! We thought he was dead! Why didn't he find a way to speak to us, a letter, find a fireplace and floo, Moody would have done those things!"

"Are you sure?" asked Harry. "I mean, the Moody I knew wouldn't have dared communicate unless he was sure there was no way it could be intercepted. He couldn't have contacted the order, because he thought that this place was compromised by Snape. He wouldn't have gone to Hogwarts because it was under the Death Eater's control, and so was the Ministry, so he couldn't floo. And we were really will hidden, so if he did send an Owl, it wouldn't have reached us." He finished.

"But what about the Burrow?" asked Ron. A confident finality in his voice. No one had an answer. "Well?"

"Well…" Hermione said slowly, obviously thinking. "If he contacted the Burrow, and he was seen doing so… or someone found out… then the Death Eaters would have known that your family was working with the Order, and they… would have attacked the Burrow." She finished uncertainly, looking at Harry for support.

Harry glanced at Ron and Ginny, both were trying to see the holes in this theory.

"Fine." Huffed Ron. "But it still doesn't mean it's him. We need another way to find out."

"I'll be back." Said Harry, and he stood up out of his chair, and walked to the balcony overlooking Hermione's huge collection of books. He climbed over it, and onto the top of the nearest bookshelf, before dropping down.

"Why does he always have to try and be cool?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, he could just use the stairs every once in a while." Agreed Hermione.

Ginny just shook her head.

They all climbed down the wooden spiral staircase to the lower floor. They saw Harry walking across an aisle, reading the name of each book he passed. Eventually he stopped, and pulled out a book. Opening it, he scanned the contents page.

"The other day, I was reading this-"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I really was." He said, in a defensive manner.

Ron raised his eyebrow.

"But only because I was bored." He said, again defensive. "Anyway. This is the history of the Auror department. And there's a whole chapter on Moody."

"Really?" asked Hermione. Interested.

"Yeah, I thought you'd read all these." He said, gesturing to the thousands of books surrounding them.

"Not all of them, yet." She said, a little embarrassed, possibly at the idea that she did indeed intend to read them all, but Harry knew that being bookish was not something Hermione was ashamed of. He thought it might be simply because she hadn't managed to read a few million words of literature in three months. It made him chuckle.

"Anyway, Moody's in here, mainly its talking about his methods versus traditional, and it's all about the time when they were after Voldemort, and all the Aurors went medieval, started using unforgivables and that type of thing. And it's got examples of lots of his achievements in here. So we could ask him about them."

"But, they're in a book, so if he is being impersonated, the impostor could just have read them all, so they'll know as much as we do."

"True, but I don't think they'll know the _exact _dates that they happened. And I think Moody will, he took his job very seriously, and he thought it was a really big thing whenever he caught a Death Eater. It think he'll remember them all, just fine. Plus, his reaction will tell us something."

Ron shrugged, Hermione nodded. And Ginny smiled slightly. "You know that this is going to take _hours_, don't you?"

"Well, there are a lot of things to get through. So, lets get to it."

******** Hours Later, in the kitchen ********

"There." Said Harry. Closing the book with an unmistakable thud of finality. "At least we know you're the real thing. But I've been wondering. How _are _you still alive?"

"Granger, I'd like a cup of tea please, if you'd be so kind." He looked genuinely thirsty. Instead of boiling the kettle, Hermione waved her wand in a complicated movement, and a stream of tea poured out of the end into a cup she had conjured, followed by milk and two lumps of sugar. "Wow, I'm impressed. You've gotten good over the last Eight months. That was very complicated spellwork, and I almost missed you putting the truth potion in it." He said with a smile.

Hermione looked shocked, and embarrassed at being caught.

"Don't worry about it. I'd have been more concerned if you didn't put it in. But I think Dumbledore kept an antidote in the far cupboard." He took the cup despite the potion, and took a sip.

Harry looked confused. "You drank it anyway?"

"Well, got nothing to hide, have I? No point beating around the bush. And… hmmmm." He took a long breath over the cup. "Is that lavender? Well Granger, you've outdone yourself this time, I would never have thought you'd use _that _type of potion."

Ron looked around. "What type of potion?"

Hermione glanced at them all nervously. "It's Lingalax. It's a truth potion, but it's effects are closer to that of alcohol, it loosens your tongue. It's also a mild aphrodisiac." She finished nervously.

Moody chuckled. "I wouldn't say _mild, _but yes, it is very similar to alcohol, but without the negatives. Unless saying whatever comes into your head and being willing to take home any toad you find a negative thing. But there's no liver damage, or loss of balance, or slowed reflexes, which helps in the 'other' department."

"Gross." Said Ginny. "Do you have to talk about all that stuff."

"Yep." Said Moody with a smile. "Gotta say whatever comes to mind. The only control I have is to try and say it differently. But, I'll try Weasley, but only because you aren't old enough to be hearing about those things anyway."

"Hey! I'm Sixteen! The Ministry says I'm not old enough, but they say Stan Shunpike was a death eater, they don't know what they're talking about. The muggles know that 16 is old enough! I wonder what else they know. Maybe I'll hand in my wand and live with them."

Harry laughed. So did Hermione. Ron looked a little bit sick. "You do know I'm your brother, and I can here everything you say? Please, stop talking about that stuff."

"He brought it up!" she protested.

"Can we please get back to the important stuff?" Asked Harry, "You know, the whole 'how the hell did moody survive being killed' thing."

"Sure thing." Said Moody, supremely unconcerned. "Well, everything was going according to plan. The Death Eaters were splitting up, confused by the seven Potters. They were focusing on me, as they figured the real Potter would be with the strongest protector. But mundungus got scared. The coward apparated away, and the next curse split my wand almost in two, and I managed to apparate before the second curse hit me."

Everyone was listening intently.

"With a broken wand, I couldn't control my destination properly, and ended up in the middle of nowhere. I splinched myself as well. Lost two fingers," He held up his left hand, showing his little and ring fingers missing. "I also lost a lot of muscle from my good leg. And left my wooden leg and eye behind." He shifted his weight, as he'd been sitting in the same place for hours. Ginny pushed a chair towards him. He took her up on the offer. Letting out a groan of satisfaction as he nestled comfortably into the seat. "Didn't have a clue where I was, except that it was cold. Damn cold. But that told me something, I needed to head south. So I did, slowly, only one leg, no wand. No way to contact the Wizarding world. Then I started to catch snippets of muggle news. I knew what the disappearances, deaths, 'terrorist attacks' were all just you-know-who and his death eaters. I knew that they must have taken over. Contact with anyone was too dangerous. I hid out, got used to living without magic. Moved only at night, kept on heading south. Eventually, I reached a desert. I knew, that I was nowhere near England anymore. Turned out I'd made it to Kazakhstan. I'd been in Russia, and Russia is a big place. So by the time I realised where I was, it was time to go west. Across two continents, 33 countries. I got caught up in so much muggle conflict and issues that I almost forgot why I was trying to get back."

He went silent for a minute. "I had to get back, because I had information, I had figured something out. Something important."

"What?" asked Harry, urgently, but softly, he hadn't used his voice in a while, "What information, does it even matter, now that Voldemort is gone."

"Back when I first joined the aurors, I was drafted into a division called the guards. We were given special training, orders different to everyone else. We didn't go out and investigate crimes, and track down minor felons, even Death Eaters weren't the type we routinely went after. We were assigned missions against people like Voldemort. The leaders, the schemers, the most powerful dark wizards. People who had the potential to be evil, to do bad things, wizards with unique abilities. Those were our targets."

Harry was listening harder than he'd ever listened in his life. Neither he, Ron, Hermione or Ginny had breathed in at least a minute.

"We had to capture, never kill, usually for interrogations, sometimes because they would be taken by the ministry, and not seen again, and sometimes, because, you just couldn't kill them."

"They had Horcruxes?" asked Harry.

"Sometimes, other times, they had… other methods, of being un-killable. We were well funded. We had connections, equipment, anonymity. We were often given missions which made no sense. Convince a foreign dignitary to say a certain thing, or to liberate certain artefacts from museums. And no one ever saw us twice. We began to wonder how much power and influence we had, what the ministry could do with us at it's command. And then, one day, someone noticed something incredible. Out budget stated a figure so ridiculous that we couldn't believe it. It was many times the money we were actually getting."

"So, what was happening to the money?" asked Hermione.

"We had our theories. And we noticed things, every once in a while, we would go out on a mission, usually to find and question a potential dark lord. And there would be a new guy with us. But they always seemed superior, like they could do things we couldn't, like they were better than us. And while we were doing our pointless errands, they would disappear, and then reappear as we left. Almost, as if our operations were just a smoke-screen for whatever they were doing."

"A smoke screen? But why use a secret organisation as a smoke-screen? Its pointless, because that's like hiding behind someone who's invisible, they cant hide you." Said Hermione.

"I think we were more than a cover for the outside world. I think we were hiding them from the ministry as well. And once, we were on a mission, checking out a place where we were told Voldemort would be interested in. And I went off to see where the new guy went, and when I found him, he was fighting someone. They seemed to be fighting over an artefact of some sort, a huge roll of parchment, like a map. And they fought like nothing I've ever seen. He was wearing a strange cloak. It was red, with no hood, and it looked like it weighed nothing, like it floated in the wind, it looked like a liquid. But every time something hit it, it went rigid, solid."

"How were they fighting, were they doing non-verbal spells?" asked Harry.

"They weren't doing any magic I've ever seen before. They were doing spells without wands, without incantations. They were fighting with swords, and hand to hand. They moved faster than my eyes could follow. Every movement they made looked like apparition. They were in one place, then another, with seemingly no motion in between. They were strong as well. With every flick of the swords, the curtains would flutter, the force of their strikes made me lose my balance. And I could feel their power. It made my heart slow. Rooted me to the spot. I felt, trapped, frightened. It made my hair stand on end. The guy he was fighting, he was much stranger. He had these eyes, they were purple, and he could do things, impossible things. He could, change shape."

He was becoming less and less like Moody the more he drank. He was showing weakness, as though what he'd seen had truly affected him.

"He could dodge the attacks without moving his feet, he could change the shape of his torso to evade strikes."

Harry knew he was going off on a tangent due to the Lingalax, and they should stop him, but Harry was completely engrossed in this tale. Surely, people didn't exist with powers like that. He'd know, everyone would, you couldn't keep people that strong a secret, someone would find out.

"Then the guy in the cloak put his hands together, and this golden light appeared, and he put his hand on the floor, and there was a blast. And the next thing I knew, I was being carried by one of my friends, back to the portkey location. And one of my legs had been lost in the explosion." He trailed off into silence.

Harry looked at Ron, who was listening open mouthed. And Hermione, who was surveying Moody nervously, as though she thought her potion had addled his brain. Ginny had a look of intense curiosity on her face.

"But, what does tha-" Began Ginny.

"When I was making my way through eastern Europe. I think it was Sarajevo, I saw another man in a red cloak. He wasn't the same man as before. He had long, blonde hair."

"What did the first guy have?" Asked Hermione. Wondering if it would lead on any interesting paths, who knew what he would say next.

"I can't remember, all I can recall is glasses. And the cloak. And the sword, the most beautiful sword."

"But what is the relevance of seeing the blonde guy?" asked Ron.

"The Guard, was disbanded only two years after it had begun. We took this to mean that it was due to whoever it was we were covering going down. It was logical, why make us run fake missions if there was no one to hide. But now, it's clear that they never stopped. The Guard is still operational, not the secretive ministry branch, but the super-secretive hidden members. I think something important must be beginning, as the last time these guys were out and about was during Voldemort's rise to power. And that time, they didn't destroy any buildings."

"He destroyed a building!?" asked Ginny. "How big?"

"It was a tower block. There was spellfire coming at him from one of the highest floors. Suddenly, all the dirt on the ground started blowing away from him. I could feel his power, from Three-hundred-yards away. Then, he clicked his fingers, and all of the building's supports exploded into dust. It took him Five seconds, and the entire thing was rubble."

"That's impossible, if there were people who could destroy buildings, then we'd know about them. You just can't hide people who can do things like that!" Harry said suddenly.

Moody laughed. "But you can hide a gigantic castle, filled with more magic than any other sight in the world, and a forest full or Giant spiders, centaurs and occasionally giants and on one occasion dragons."

Hermione looked at Harry, as if to say: "He's got a point."

"So, what are you trying to say? That someone more powerful than Voldemort will rise to power and try and destroy the world again?" asked Harry, more than a little sarcastic.

"That." Said Moody, laughing a little, and drinking the last of his tea. "Isn't a bad analysis."

The smiles on their faces at Harry's comment dropped like a lead boat, with a load of holes in it, in the middle of the sea, full of fat people, and with some other heavy stuff on board, and no life rafts.

******** If I told you where this was then it would be less mysterious and that would spoil the atmosphere of this scene ********

Lu-Tse was happy with his life. If you could call it a life, if you could call it happy, if you could call it Lu-Tse. One thing he had learned in his line of work is that nothing is really certain. Nothing except the texts.

He lived his life by the texts, everyone here did. Everyone _everywhere _lived by the texts. It was unavoidable. He strode down the aisle. On each side of him, stood The Texts. They were books. Not on shelves, but were free-standing. Each twenty feet tall, bound in lead, four feet thick, made of paper so thin it was almost invisible, written in writing so small they caused eye-strain even with a magnifying glass. The aisle he was walking down was almost a mile long. And there were four-thousand aisles.

These were the Tomes of History. The books of Time. The Texts. They were not volumes in which events were recorded, as most History books were. No. These were the books from which History was _derived_.

Lu-Tse's job was to ensure that every day, the right events occurred, the right people met each other, the right things were said, the shoelace came undone at the exact moment for the businessman to miss his train, and meet the love of his life, who inspires him to write a novel, which causes someone to realise their ambitions, and change the policies on women's rights. These things were a daily occurrence for Lu-Tse. He specialised in human interactions, events concerning diplomats, and other important people, and sometimes unimportant people as well.

He had few friends, in fact when he considered it, he had one person who he was on speaking terms with. Jin-Do was the head of time-management. He oversaw many duties, many of which involved fixing the mistakes those pesky wizards always made when they played with their time-turner toys. But his most important job, was to simply ensure that tomorrow happened _after_ today, otherwise, things usually got messy.

One of the most important thing one had to know when influencing human interactions as he did, was the slightest change could change the universe. If he caused a person to stand on an ant, for instance. The entire universe would change completely, for the ant, at least. But one of the major influences of his work was Karma, Qi, Prana, whatever one wished to call it. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The entire world was one gargantuan equation, Karma was the equation trying to balance itself out.

Everything he did unbalanced the equation, and then something else would happen which tried to cancel out his actions, and he had to prevent that, which caused more Karma, it was an extremely difficult job. It was a good thing he had completed the necessary Six-Hundred-Year training course.

What he was about to do now, went against everything he had been taught in that course. But no one ever got anywhere by following _all _the rules. He was about to break not only every rule of his own learning, but the third rule of the Sacred Index.

Silence in the Library

Books Returned No Later Than The Date Shown

Do Not Interfere With The Nature of Causality

But it was a necessary act. He had seen The Texts. He knew what had been set in motion. And he knew that Karma would not be able to handle it. Karma would try, and it would not be enough. Which struck him as odd. Until he realised that it was not He who would add to Karma's interferences in order to balance out the events, but he realised that Karma already knew that he would act, so he was only doing as instructed by The Texts.

He finally found the Tome he was looking for. He pulled on the lead cover, and with smoothness and weightlessness which betrayed the balance and sheer perfection with which it was crafted, the cover swung open. Within each Tome was Ten-Thousand pages of writing. He had to get to page Six-thousand-four-hundred-and-fifty-two. With a practiced hand, he delicately turned the first page, and then the second. Each time he turned a page, he had to walk in a large semi-circle and pull the page with him. He needed to do this Six-thousand-four-hundred-and-fifty more times.

He finally arrived at the correct page. He withdrew his magnifying glass, seemingly from nowhere, and perused the lines of text. Carefully following each line. He started at the bottom, but he knew that soon he would need to retrieve his stepladder. But he was in luck. Only about four feet from the ground, on line eight-thousand-one-hundred-and-four, he found what he was looking for.

"ah." He said. And understanding washing over his face. "I see. They have been smart. Very smart. It will be difficult to succeed, but I feel that I can do it."

He concentrated, and moved his hands in a very complicated fashion. He felt time wrap around him.

He opened his eyes. "Yes. Quite." He said. He was probably going to need Jin-do's help with this.

**A/N, Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up. I've had it written for a while now, but I just forgot to post it, I've been having family issues, and I was ranting for a while about why there isn't a law to stop people butchering the last quarter of a Harry Potter film. ; )**

**Sayonara**


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